


Warmth and Protection

by SilverInk



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff
Genre: Caretaking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: Marcus's point of view of my storyTranquil,in which Esca takes care of Marcus in Borcovicus.





	Warmth and Protection

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tranquil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259636) by [SilverInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk). 



Marcus woke up slowly, not at all sure where he was for a moment. All he knew for certain was that Esca was lying next to him, and he pressed in closer to the other man’s warm body, afraid for a moment that the Seal People had caught up to them before they could reach the Wall and now they were both prisoners. But Esca felt relaxed against him, and Marcus could feel his heartbeat, steady and calm; and Marcus himself felt too warm and comfortable to be a prisoner in an enemy camp.

Only then, as he woke further, did the ache of his wounded leg register, and it was sharp enough at first to force a groan from him. He curled in against Esca’s chest again, then opened his eyes and looked up into Esca’s face. The other man was awake and watching him softly, and as Marcus took in the sunlight and the familiar appearance of the room beyond them, he remembered everything that had happened. Coming to the Wall and seeing Drusillus again, setting the Eagle on his desk… And after that, nothing.

“Esca—” he started, meaning to ask what had happened, if the Eagle was safe, but his throat was too dry for him to be able to speak, and he started coughing. Esca squeezed his shoulder soothingly, then left the bed, picking up a cup that was on one of the tables. He took a long sip himself first, before coming back to the bed and helping Marcus to sit up, then pressing the cup into his hands. Marcus drank gratefully, then gave the cup back to Esca, burying his face against Esca’s shoulder and leaning into the other man again. He felt a kiss to his hair and Esca’s arm tight around him, and he closed his eyes against the fierce tide of feeling that came over him: protection and safety, love, devotion, tenderness.

“Thank you,” Marcus murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Esca.”

In truth, he did know: he would have died long ago, either by wild animals and the elements, or by the tribes who would surely not trust a man who looked as strikingly, darkly Roman as he did who wasn’t traveling with a British companion. He owed Esca everything.

The cup was pushed into his hands again and Marcus took another deep drink, then turned Esca’s face toward him to give him a proper kiss. Esca’s lips tasted more of dirt and sweat than anything else, and they felt chapped enough against his own that they must be very tender, so Marcus took care to be gentle. When he pulled away, Esca‘s eyes were soft and sweet and grey.

“I’m glad you don’t have to find out.” Esca’s words made Marcus smile so that he felt he would never stop smiling, and his chest felt full. The feeling almost completely drowned out the throbbing ache in his leg, and he ran his knuckles over Esca’s cheek.

“So am I, Esca…”

For a long moment, they were quiet, Esca’s hand stroking through Marcus’s hair and Marcus leaning into his hand, enjoying the gentle touch. The sunlight in the room was full and golden now, and Marcus would’ve loved to be able to go outside, or at least open a window. It would be a good day for hunting, and Marcus silently cursed his leg for preventing him from going out and doing exactly that, right now.

“Shall I go and find some food for us?” Esca asked, and Marcus realized just how hungry he was.

“I can get up,” Marcus said, suddenly feeling the need to prove at least to himself that he wasn’t tied down by the wound. Esca was on the edge of the bed, so Marcus felt sure that he could just swing his legs over the edge and stand up. Just as he had done countless times. He made to do exactly that, but very suddenly, the pain in his damaged leg grew sharp and arced through him, and he choked on a harsh gasp.

“No, no, Marcus, stay here,” Esca said, touching his arm, his face beseeching. “I’ll find food and bring it back here, and then we can have a bath and change our clothes.”

Marcus felt shocked and almost humbled by Esca _pleading_ with him to take care of himself, when he’d never begged for anything before, so Marcus moved to lie back on the pillows, giving Esca an apologetic look. “Alright. Perhaps standing isn’t such a good idea yet.” He smiled, wanting to show Esca that he really was alright, and Esca leaned in to kiss him deeply, open-mouthed and gentle so that Marcus grew dizzy with it. It felt almost like a reward for acquiescing and giving up some of his pride, and it took a long moment for him to gain the strength to open his eyes after the kiss ended.

“How does it feel?” Esca asked him, touching his thigh over the blankets, and Marcus looked to see Esca’s expressive eyes full of concern.

“It has certainly been worse. But it does hurt,” he admitted softly.

“Can you bear for me to touch it?”

Secretly, Marcus worried that a touch on his bare skin would be too much, gentle though he knew Esca would be. But Esca had been able to get the muscles to relax many times before, and it greatly helped the pain.

Taking a deep breath, Marcus murmured, “I think so.” He threw the blankets covering him to the side, then slid his braccae down to his knees. The first touch of Esca’s hands was sharp, and Marcus had to squeeze his eyes shut and grit his teeth to keep from crying out. Esca pressed deeper, and Marcus clutched the sheets under him hard enough that he worried they would rip, and then, finally, something eased in his leg and all the tension flowed out of him.

Marcus was shaking, he realized, and he felt suddenly tired again, and horribly weak. He felt almost as he had when Esca had been his slave; it was a good thing that he hadn’t insisted on getting up. Esca kissed his cheek, and tugged Marcus’s braccae up again.

“Alright?” Esca murmured, and Marcus nodded, his eyes falling closed.

“Thank you, Esca,” he tried to smile. Esca kissed his lips again, and Marcus felt robbed of even more strength. Only this way it was far more pleasant, because it was Esca making him feel this way, Esca who he loved and trusted with his life. Dear Esca…

He left to get food for them, and Marcus lay looking up at the ceiling for a long moment. Presently, Centurion Drusillus came into the room and gave him a salute, and Marcus brightened to see the man again.

“How are you feeling, sir?”

“As well as can be expected, I’m sure, Drusillus. It is good to see you again,” Marcus said earnestly, and the other smiled.

“You as well, sir.”

A pause, and then Marcus couldn’t hold back the questions he’d had since waking up. “Drusillus, the Eagle is safe?” He asked it in a quick undertone, and the Centurion turned and closed the door to the sleeping cell before answering. It came to Marcus suddenly how similar this was to the last time they’d seen each other — Marcus lying in a bed, sick and in pain from the wound in his leg, and Drusillus dutifully passing on information to him. He hoped someday to see the man again under different circumstances.

“The Eagle is safe in my desk, where it will remain until you are ready to leave. I haven’t told anyone else of it.”

“Thank you,” Marcus said softly. “Before now I hadn’t thought of anything beyond getting to the Wall with it. I’m not sure—“ He shook his head, stumbled hesitatingly over the words. “What would you have us do with it?”

Drusillus was silent a moment, thinking. Then, “I think—that it would be best for you to take it with you. There is nothing we could do with it or protect it here, and it is in my heart that I think it would be safer if you kept it.”

Searching the other man’s face, Marcus nodded solemnly. “We—Esca and I—were sent by the Legate of the Sixth, Claudius Hieronimianus. He’s a friend of my uncle’s, and we can bring the matter to him.”

Drusillus nodded. “Good. Esca — your man? He seems singularly devoted to you.”

Warmth flushed through him. “He is my freedman. I bought him from a gladiator arena, and he helped me while I was laid up with this leg. We have grown very close in that time...” Marcus didn’t want to say exactly how close, and it didn’t seem that Drusillus had guessed, because he just said,

“I’m glad that you have had someone you trust so much to go on this journey with you.”

He was lucky indeed to have Esca, and Marcus showed him how grateful he was for his presence when Esca returned a short while later with food.

They sat in the bed together and ate, trading kisses and quiet words, and then later they changed their clothes and bathed. Esca shaved his own face, then Marcus’s, and his hands felt gentle and so good against his skin. In the afternoon, Marcus slept, still weary and in pain, and as much as he would’ve liked to keep going toward Calleva, he was glad for the opportunity to sleep in a proper bed, with Esca warm and comforting beside him.


End file.
